


Carol Goes to the Hairdresser

by WhiteravenGreywolf



Series: If I stay [55]
Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Carol's new look is finally complete, F/F, It's a Cat not Hannibal Lector, So many Flerkens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 01:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18928639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteravenGreywolf/pseuds/WhiteravenGreywolf
Summary: Carol and Monica are on the trail of Flerken poachers, however, things don't go as planned when some of them recognize Carol's hair. Maybe it's time to take a trip to the hairdresser.





	Carol Goes to the Hairdresser

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This was basically the last thing I had to explain before Endgame: the moment Carol got a haircut. And you know what that means... So don't forget to show up tomorrow for Endgame!  
> Anyway, as usual, I hope you enjoy!

Catching those Flerken poachers should have been easy for two ex-SHIELD agents, trained in the art of infiltration and trickery. When the local authorities had asked for their help, Carol had assured they could take care of it on their own. It should have been really simple, really. Monica would pretend to be a potential client, Carol would then follow them to their hideout and stop the criminals without letting any Flerken loose. The authorities would take the criminals and the Flerken would be returned to their planet, because as everyone knew, Flerkens were not pets.

  
However, things had somehow gone south very quickly. They were supposed to meet in a massive market where a lot of people came and went. Monica was waiting where the poachers had indicated her, looking very much like a tourist. Carol was hidden a few feet away, pretending to look at whatever the stall in front of her had on display.

  
"If they're not here in ten minutes we're pulling the plug," Carol decided.

  
"They'll come," Monica assured, "just give it a bit of time."

  
Sure enough, a few minutes later, the poachers arrived in a large van-like vehicle, floating above the sanding ground. Monica played her part with ease. She talked to the poachers, asking questions about the Flerken without sounding too nosy. The price, the age of the animal, anything a future owner would like to know. Finally, the poacher opened the back of their vehicle for Monica to see. She clenched her teeth and kept her anger in. Tiny cages were stacked on top of each other, each containing a Flerken. It was the first time Monica had ever seen Flerkens other than Goose. Much like your typical cat, there was a variety of color and markings. Red, black, some white, with strikes or dots or colors. They were still struggling and trying to escape, and Monica wondered at first why they weren't using their tentacles. It was only when one of them was roughly pulled out of its cage that she noticed it was wearing a mask over its muzzle, preventing it from opening its mouth wide enough for the tentacles to come out.

  
"You're sure the mask is necessary?" she asked.

  
The poacher, an alien with spikes protruding out of his skin, laughed.

  
"They do more than bite."

  
The poacher placed the Flerken in her arms. She patted its head, and the Flerken started to purr, nuzzling closer to her.

  
"So, do you take it?"

  
Before Monica could say anything, another one of the poachers, who'd been keeping an eye around them, shouted:

  
"It's Captain Marvel!"

  
They all turned around. Carol had not even moved, she was still looking desperately at the stall, hoping the poachers wouldn't listen. However, they did. They pulled out their weapons, ready to shoot at her in an open crowded space. Maybe they were dumber than the authorities had given them credit.

  
"Carol! Watch out!" Monica shouted.

  
Carol turned around and blasted the two poachers before they could fire at her. Everyone around them panicked and ran away. One poacher hit his van. The other one rolled in the sand. The last one, who'd been talking with Monica, jumped behind the wheel and drove off without even closing the back of the van. The other two got up and jumped at the back of the vehicle, closing it off. Carol ran up to Monica, and together they watched the van go.

  
"Goddamn it! What happened?"

  
"I don't know," Monica shrugged. "One of them recognized the back of your head apparently."

  
"You could have helped me."

  
Monica showed the red Flerken still bundled in her hands, who was rubbing its head against her chin.

  
"My hands were full already."

  
The Flerken purred loudly.

  
"Can we keep him? Bring a friend back for Goose?"

  
Carol rolled her eyes and huffed.

  
"Well, we need a new plan now."

  
"No,  you need a haircut."

  
Carol passed a hand through her hair self-consciously.

  
"I don't. At all. My hair is fine."

  
"Your hair is so fine these poachers can recognize it by just looking at your back. It's just a haircut, it'll grow back eventually."

  
Still, Carol remained silent.

* * *

  
They handed the Flerken to the authorities, much to Monica's chagrin. It was placed with the others they'd managed to get their hands on, to be brought back to their home planet once this whole mess was sorted. Carol and Monica returned to their hotel. Carol was determined to find them a new plan. Monica just wanted to get the sand out of her hair.

  
Carol sat down at the foot of the bed, thinking. Now the poachers knew what Monica looked like, and they definitely knew what she looked like. They couldn't put the tracker on a Flerken anymore. Maybe they could find someone who could do it for them. Monica had told her there were at least fifty cages in that vehicle. They needed a place to harbor that many Flerkens and maybe even more. So many Flerken was bound to make a lot of noise, and require a lot of food.

  
After a while, her thoughts were pushed away and her mind started to wander. Eventually, it went back to what Monica had told her. She did not need a haircut. Her hair was fine. Would Maria still like her if she got her hair cut short? The question was stupid, of course. Maria didn't love her because she had long hair. Thinking about Maria made her heart pang, but it wasn't as painful as it had once been. Almost five years now. She sighed longly, and looked down at her wedding ring, still wrapped around her finger. She needed to clear her head.

  
She left her hotel after warning Monica that she would be gone for an hour or so. The sun was starting to dip over the horizon, and the entire city was colored with a nice orange glow. Under the street clothes she'd bought to disguise herself, her suit seemed to cling more tightly to her. A strange thought passed through her mind. Was she becoming someone else? Someone Maria wouldn't recognize if she were still here? Someone she wouldn't love? Again, ridiculous. She'd changed a lot since she was twenty. She would like to think she was more mature and wiser, maybe? But she had no doubt Maria continued to love through all those years, and up until her last moment. So what if she had a different suit or a different haircut?

  
Carol suddenly found herself in front of a hairdresser. It was almost a miracle. She'd thought about maybe getting a haircut, and suddenly she was in front of probably the only salon still opened in the city. It was a sign of some kind. She looked at the pictures displayed in the window shop. If she was going to cut them short, this was exactly the kind of short she wanted.

* * *

  
  
She left the hairdresser an hour later, the cold evening air running over her now exposed neck and sending chills down her spine. The hairdresser had told her she looked amazing and it suited her. She couldn't wait to see Monica's face.

  
She stopped at a crossroad, but before she could walk through she heard meowing on her right. She looked toward the sound and her eyes grew wide. She couldn't believe it. It was the van. It was parked in the alley, the doors completely open, probably showing the merchandise to another client. Carol took the tracker out of her pocket and threw it at the vehicle as she crossed the alley quickly. It latched onto the front bumper. She stopped a few feet further down the street and pushed up her sleeve to look at her computer. The tracker was active. She called Monica.

  
"I got them. Wait until the tracker stops and meet me there."

  
"Got it. See you in a flash."

  
Carol heard the heavy doors of the vehicle being closed. She pulled down her sleeve and pretended to look at the window of the shop beside her, hands in her pockets. She van drove past her, and even under the heavy artificial lights of the street lights, none of the poachers realized she'd been there the whole time. A few minutes later, a man walked out of the alley with a small cage in his hand. Carol rolled her eyes.

  
"Hey!"

* * *

  
  
After dropping the Flerken off at the police station and warning them to get ready for a raid, she followed the tracker to an abandoned building outside of the city. It must have been some kind of storage for large cargoes five years ago. An abandoned Astro-port lay right beside it. She imaged the poachers used it to bring the Flerken to the planet without being noticed. She noticed Monica waiting outside, hidden behind massive barrels, and she landed beside her.

  
Monica was stunned for a second when she saw Carol's new haircut.

  
"Wow! I'm happy you took my advice at heart."

  
"Not as happy as I am. If I hadn't, we'd still be looking for their hideout."

  
They didn't waste much time. They broke through the roof of the building. Monica disabled the vehicle easily, and together they knocked out every single criminal in the warehouse. It took no more than five minutes. The police arrived and took them all in. The Flerkens, however, were another matter altogether. Between the fifty or so in the van, the ones the authorities already had in their custody and the hundred or so in the warehouse, they would need a bigger ship to bring them all home than first imagined. Plus, there was still the poachers on their homeworld itself, who could recapture the poor creatures and try to sell them on another planet. Carol sighed when the chief of security explained everything.

  
"I guess we're going to have to intervene there too. Just give the Flerken to us, we'll bring them home."

  
The officer was all-too-happy to let Captain Marvel handle his problem. Monica was rather excited too at the prospect of seeing Goose's homeworld.

  
"What does a Flerken planet even look like?" she wondered as they walked to the Astro-port where all the Flerkens had been loaded in a ship just waiting for them.

  
"It's a jungle, basically. Very wet and warm. Wild feral Flerkens trying to eat each other."

  
"Seriously?"

  
Carol chuckled.

  
"No, I'm kidding, they don't eat each other. Just everything else that comes a bit too close."

  
"So it's really a jungle?"

  
"Yup."

  
Suddenly Carol was very glad she'd cut her hair so short.


End file.
